


Bunker Confessionals

by soberqueerinthewild



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 5+1Fic, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Rambling, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 09:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20329024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soberqueerinthewild/pseuds/soberqueerinthewild
Summary: Five times Michael & Liz talk about love (and one time they don’t have to)Originally posted to tumblr on 8/18/19.





	Bunker Confessionals

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a 5+1 fic and I got a little carried away, so three of the parts are way longer than the rest, oops! Thanks to see_addy_write (@seeaddywrite on tumblr) for putting up with me and editing everything I write. 
> 
> I'm finally attempting to post my fics to AO3 since I know some folks prefer to read it here, so you may see a bunch of posts from me in the next couple days of older fics previously posted to tumblr. Come say hi on tumblr, I'm also soberqueerinthewild over there.

1.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Liz searches Michael’s face for some hint of his usual sarcastic smirk, but even with his head bent in concentration over his work, she can see that his expression is deadly serious. 

“How could I not? Love is the reason we’re here right now, trying to resurrect the idiot you love, because he loved _you_ so much he killed himself bringing your sister back. Your sister, who was killed because a psycho decided he was in love with her. And my sister is destroyed because she just found out that the love she thought she had was a total lie. So yeah, I’d say love is the worst thing that happened to all of us. Are you telling me there aren’t days when you think your life would just be a lot easier if you didn’t love Max? Or if you’d never even met him in the first place?”

His speech brings Liz up short. It is, in its own way, a logical argument. One that a few months ago, she might’ve agreed with. Facts and evidence have been her armor, her guiding force to stabilize her through Rosa’s death and the aftermath, through her ten years away, through her tumultuous homecoming. But love had knocked her off balance. It was the one thing she realized she couldn’t logic her way into or out of. She’d tried, god she’d tried. But once she stopped resisting so hard, once she loosened her grip on all the reasons why not, she found that she loved Max Evans the way he loved her---easily. And yes, that love turned to chaos as grief raged through her. It hurt, but it also sustained her, pushed her to get out of bed, move forward, try harder. Max believed in her without evidence, loved her the ten years she was gone, and every day since she got back. No, even in her darkest moments since his death, she couldn’t bring herself to regret loving Max. 

Tears prick at her eyes. She finds it annoying how easily she cries these days. Michael looks guilty as he shuffles over to her, and puts an arm around her shoulders tentatively, less awkward than she would’ve imagined he’d be around crying women. When she doesn’t move away, he pulls her to him and lets her sob into his chest. Several times she tries to find the words to counteract Michael’s argument, to make sure Michael knows that she doesn’t, couldn’t ever feel that about Max, but she can’t speak through the tears, and Michael is mumbling apologies at her, clearly regretting bringing up the subject in the first place. 

When the tears slow and she regains her composure, waving off Michael’s apologies, he switches his focus back to their work. She briefly considers trying to bring the conversation back around, but a compound Michael scribbles out on the whiteboard in the bunker triggers an idea, and she’s scrambling to record it before it floats out of her mind. Michael’s right there with her, mind spinning as fast as hers, as they build on each other’s work, and she decides the conversation can wait for another day. She’s unwilling to lose that momentum, hoping beyond hope that this idea brings them one step closer to bringing Max back to her. 

2.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Liz remarks one afternoon a week later when they are back in the bunker testing the 342nd version of the serum they hope will boost Michael and Isobel’s powers. 

“That sounds like a bad idea. What did I say?” 

“About love being the worst thing to happen to all of us.” 

“Aw Liz,” Michael starts, sounding remorseful, likely remembering that these comments triggered a crying fit, “forget it, please. You know sometimes I put my foot in my mouth. I didn’t mean to like, make you cry or whatever.” 

“No, I mean, the thing is, what you said, it made sense to me. The logical part of my brain still kind of agrees with you. You know the whole time I was away I tried to keep all emotions at arms length. For so long after Rosa’s death, I couldn’t imagine feeling anything but grief and loss, so I tried not to feel anything at all. When I finally thought I was ready to let people into my life again, I think still unconsciously I was afraid to let anyone close that I could actually love. I tried to apply logic to relationships, pick someone I had things in common with, who had the attributes I thought I was looking for, someone that made sense for me. If it stopped making sense, I could always walk away, because I hadn’t actually invested myself emotionally. It was safe, and easy, and it didn’t hurt. When I found someone who checked every box, who seemed perfect for me, and seemed to love me so much, but I still didn’t feel anything, I knew something was missing. I did what I’m good at and ran away, back to Roswell, not knowing what I was even looking for. I didn’t know what was missing until I saw your brother again. Ten years apart, without a word spoken between us, and still when his eyes met mine, I felt more than I’d felt when Diego proposed. And even though he hurt me, even though he was a part of the worst thing that ever happened to me, and even now when I miss him so much it feels like my heart is ripped in two, I could never regret it.” 

She’s a little embarrassed to feel tears pool behind her eyes again, but she wills them not to fall, composing herself before looking back to Michael, half-expecting him to be engrossed in his work ignoring her monologue. Michael never struck her as particularly sentimental, so she’s surprised to find him staring at her, expression inscrutable. She’s even more surprised when after a long moment he quietly asks, “Didn’t it ever just feel like too much to overcome? I mean especially before we knew about Noah, didn’t you ever just feel like it would be easier to try to start over with someone where you didn’t have all that baggage?” 

She instinctively recoils at the idea that she could ever cast Max aside, but a memory flashes through her mind of pushing Max, shouting that she never wanted to see him again. 

“Yeah,” she admits, “I did feel that way right after I learned about Rosa. I pushed Max away, and threw myself into working on that first serum. I thought I needed to protect myself from him… and you and Isobel too, I guess. But once the initial anger faded, I realized that Rosa’s death wasn’t the only reason I was pushing him away. The serum could never protect me against the thing I was really afraid of. Max’s love for me was so intense, and the idea of letting myself love him back, that was terrifying for me, especially after shutting down my feelings for so long. I didn’t know what to do with the way Max felt about me. Part of me wanted it, and part of me was so scared to let him all the way in. My mom leaving, Rosa dying, those things scarred me. I was afraid they broke me. I wasn’t sure I could love Max the way he loved me, I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to risk getting hurt. But when I finally surrendered to it, it was the best feeling. Loving him felt, it feels, like teetering on the edge of a cliff. It’s scary, terrifying even, but nothing else could compare.” She’s lost again in her memories, and forgets for a minute that Michael is even there. When she looks back at him, he seems similarly lost in thought.

Michael’s silent for so long that Liz assumes he’s reached his capacity for feelings talk for the day, and focuses back on her work. A few minutes later, Michael surprises her yet again by picking the conversation back up. “Feeling like you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff is a _good_ feeling to you, Ortecho? I don’t know. Easy and safe seems preferable to courting death. Risking a crash landing.”

Liz lets out a laugh before she can stop herself. A flash of hurt crosses Michael’s face and she hurriedly reassures him, “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just everything you’re saying sounds just like me from a year ago. That’s exactly what I thought I wanted. And if it were enough for me, I’d have stayed with Diego, or hell, I would’ve made a go of it with Kyle.” She ignores Michael’s mumbled “that fucking guy.” Someday she’ll find out what exactly it is that’s kept that grudge burning for ten years, but now’s not the time. “But like I told you, with Diego, something was missing. Even though he seemed perfect, I couldn’t connect to him. And with Kyle... well, I adore Kyle. I feel safe with him. He’s a good, kind, person, and,” she adds, mostly to annoy Michael, “we have good sex.” She’s rewarded with the disgusted grimace she’s expecting. “But reconnecting with Max, even when I knew he was hiding something from me and I couldn’t trust him, there was something, a pull so strong between us, it almost felt fated. It was exhilarating and scary and wonderful and so powerful, I just...I don’t know...after feeling that, I don’t think I’d be able to feel fulfilled with safe and comfortable.” 

“Well, then,” Michael responds, a softness in his tone she’s rarely heard from him. “In that case I guess we better get back to work. Bring him back to you.” Liz shoots him a grateful smile, and returns to examining the sample under her microscope, hope renewed with the reminder of exactly what it is she’s fighting for.

3.

“Ortecho, what the hell are you doing?!” Liz hears Michael clamber down the ladder into the bunker, but she doesn’t pause to even look up at him as she adds her new serum to a sample of Max’s blood. She can’t afford to be distracted right now, so if Michael’s not here to help, which he doesn’t sound like he is, she has no reservations about kicking him out of his own bunker. He continues his tirade as soon as he reaches the ground. “This is a *secret* lair because I keep the damn door closed and hidden. How the hell did you even move the Airstream to get down here?” 

“You were at Maria’s but you left your keys in your truck. I’m an expert now, ever since I moved it to save you and Max that time.” She answers, still not looking up from her work, measuring out a new solution with a different concentration until she can get the ratio just right. 

“Speaking of my brother, why are you here at the ass crack of dawn instead of curled up with him, listening to him recite poetry about your eyes or whatever the fuck it is you guys do together. He’s barely been back two days, you can’t be sick of him already.” She finally looks up as he plucks the beaker out of her hand. She grabs for it, but he lifts it out of reach. “You do remember that we already perfected the serum, right? You and me, geniuses that we are, figured it out. Iz and I brought Max back? Any of this ringing any bells?” He’s kept his tone light, but she can see the lines of concern on his face as he studies her. There’s obviously a part of him that thinks she may have lost her mind a bit after weeks and months of stress. 

“I know that,” she retorts sharply, snatching the beaker back as soon as he lets his guard down slightly. “This is a new thing I’m working on.” She turns pointedly away from him, drawing up 2 ml of the solution she just mixed into a pipette and adding it to a new sample of Max’s blood on the next slide she has lined up on the table. She labels it carefully with the proportions of the new mixture and the number 8. She hears a resigned sigh from Michael and the telltale scraping as he telekinetically moves the Airstream over the manhole cover. 

“Alright,” Michael says placatingly, like one might talk to a small child. “What are you working on then that’s so important it dragged you here before dawn. Maybe I can help?” 

Liz pauses for a moment. Rationally, she knows she needs his help. Over the last frenzied hours of work she’s not entirely sure anything she’s done makes sense. Pure panic isn’t the best motivator in scientific endeavors, so having Michael check her work might be worth how pissed he’s likely to get when she explains what she’s working on. 

“I’m trying to make a serum that will, I don’t know, regulate alien abilities.” She looks pointedly at the floor rather than at Michael, anticipating the explosion that comes a moment later. 

“Regulate? You mean mute right? Didn’t you learn your lesson after almost killing Isobel? Jesus Liz, I thought you were off this, why are you trying to take our powers away, again? What the fu--”

“You were right.” The interruption pulls Michael up short. He pauses his tirade and just looks at her expectantly. “Max got himself killed because of loving me so much. But not just that, it was the guilt too. He told me last night that he did it for us, and that he’d do it again, because without Rosa back he didn’t think I could ever truly forgive him for his part in what happened to her. He didn’t want to tear us apart.” 

Her explanation seems to have doused his anger. His face has softened, and he looks at her quizzically. “Well...was he right? It’s not like you don’t have reasons to resent him...us.” 

“No!” Her shout reverberates through the bunker. “I really did forgive him, even before I knew it wasn’t really Isobel. I forgave him. I thought he knew that. I thought I told him that? I did, didn’t I? I don’t know, I’m not as good at putting my feelings into words as he is, you know?”

“Heh,” Michael scoffs. “I feel like that’s all you do with me. Every time we’re in this bunker you’re going on and on about your feelings.” 

Liz is too wound up to even be insulted. “I know! It’s weird. Why can I say all this stuff to you, when half of it I never said to him? I never even told him I loved him before he died, did you know that?” She doesn’t pause to hear his answer. “He told me of course. Dozens of times. Told me he loved me his entire life right after I accused him of killing my sister. It’s like these things just spill out of him, you know? It seems to come so easily to him, but for me it can be a lot.” At Michael’s furrowed brow she adds, “It’s wonderful, it is, but sometimes it’s overwhelming. He’s a goddamn poet, and he just spews these pretty speeches that are so honest, and beautiful, and raw. Like a punch to the gut sometimes, and I… I don’t always know what to do with them. I can’t always respond in the moment. I need time to fight that instinct to run that’s always there right under the surface. I need a minute to regroup and actually evaluate how I feel before I can tell him. Because I do love him, I think I loved him the whole damn time, and I tried to show him, even before I could tell him, but I obviously didn’t do a good enough job.” 

Her words are coming fast now, and she’s sure she’s barely coherent, but she can’t stop. “He didn’t feel how much I loved him and he didn’t believe I forgave him, and because of that I lost him. I’m so goddamn grateful to have Rosa back, but how could he not know that anything that would heal in me would be torn apart if I’d lost him for good? How could he possibly think I’d want him to sacrifice himself? And then for him to look me in the eye, mere hours after I got him back, and say he’d do it again! How am I supposed to live with that? I can’t lose him again, I won’t survive it. But I can’t seem to make him understand how much he’d be hurting me if he sacrificed himself. So I need to make something… a serum, anything, that won’t allow him to drain his life force like that again. So that I have time. To find the right words. To make him understand.” 

A tentative hand on her shoulder finally pulls her out of the spiral and cuts off her torrent of words. Michael lets out a surprised grunt when she turns into his touch and buries her face in his shoulder and sobs. After a moment she feels Michael’s hand in her hair, moving in comforting, even strokes. In a moment the adrenaline that’s been propelling her since she snuck out of Max’s bed at 1 am dissipates, leaving in its place only exhaustion, causing her to sink further into Michael’s grip. He senses her fatigue and leads her over to a low table in the corner. Liz sits and leans heavily on Michael, exhausted now, both from lack of sleep last night and stress. 

“Careful. It was one thing for us to cuddle like this when Max was in the pod, but we’ve established that Max isn’t always rational when it comes to you. Wouldn’t want him to bust in here and punch me out in a jealous rage.” Liz chokes out a laugh at the idea of anyone mistaking their bromance for something romantic. Michael continues, adopting a more earnest tone. “But seriously. I know being in love with a stubborn, self-sacrificing, idiot who thinks he knows how best to protect you is a tough road, but from everything you’ve told me, it sounds like it’s one your stuck with.” Incapable of being serious for too long, Michael adds, “If you’re not planning to ditch him for me that is.” 

“Hmm, yeah that seems like a level of drama I’m not remotely interested in. Even if I was capable as seeing you as anything other than an annoying little brother.” Liz retorts, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“As I am constantly telling Isobel, WE ARE THE SAME AGE!” Michael exclaims, as he knocks her hand away. “And since I seem to be always in the position of comforting you and am about to offer you some sage advice, I should at least be considered an annoying older brother.” There’s a note of sarcasm in his tone, but behind it she senses a softness, like he’s touched that she’d refer to him as family even in jest.

“_You_ are going to offer me sage advice?”

“Yup. It’s going to be groundbreaking and ingenious.” Liz gestures for him to continue, trying to keep the look of doubt off her face. 

“Ok, here it goes…. You should talk to him.” 

“That’s it? That’s your brilliant advice? I should talk to him? I’ve tried! Clearly I haven’t done a good enough job if he still doesn’t understand that him dying for me wouldn’t be doing me any favors!” 

“Make him understand. Try talking to him in his language, read some poetry about how your soul fits with his or something. Or just ramble at him like you did at me just now.” Michael sighs heavily, before speaking again. “Though I am loathe to admit it, Max and I do have some similarities, and our tendency to act rashly to protect the people we love is one of them.” A flash of indecision crosses Michael’s face, but after another deep breath he forges on. “Just before Max died, I nearly got myself killed. The only thing that saved me was being forced to confront that me dying would hurt and even endanger someone that I lo-...cared about. I’ve been on the other side too, of having someone put themselves in danger for me, and I know that helplessness and fear can eat away at you.” 

Liz can tell from the set of his jaw that Michael has provided exactly as many details as he intends to share, so even though curiosity burns through her, she doesn’t bother asking for further explanation, but rather waits patiently for him to continue. 

“I didn’t have the opportunity to make them see that protecting me wasn’t worth it if they put themselves at risk. But you do. You can make Max understand how much it would hurt you, for him to risk himself. Hurting you is the last thing he wants. So yeah, my profound piece of wisdom is to talk to him. Better that than fucking around with an alien muting serum that might kill us all.” He tosses a smile her way at the last part, but she knows he’s covering some real fear. He consented to help with experiments first to save Isobel and then Max, but the ingrained fear of experimentation and dissection has never left him. She imagines it’s only gotten worse since Caufield. Michael hasn’t shared any details, but Kyle gave her a basic outline, with a haunted look she hoped to never see on his face again. After a moment of hesitation, Liz sweeps her slides off the table into the trash. The look of total relief that crosses Michael’s face removes any remaining doubt that she made the right call.

“I was doubtful at first, but that actually was pretty good advice. I think I’ll take it.” She leans up and presses a kiss on his cheek, before making her way over to the ladder to exit the bunker. Michael acquiesces to her silent request, and shifts the airstream and opens the manhole cover to allow her to exit. As she climbs up towards the light, she can’t resist tossing over her shoulder, “Sorry, though, despite your infinite wisdom, you still seem like a little brother to me!” 

4.

It’s unseasonably warm for early March, the temperature reaching the mid-sixties for the first time and she’s determined to enjoy it. Liz reclines on the blanket she and Rosa dragged up to the roof of the Crashdown, as Rosa starts on painting the big toe or her second foot with a new color of nail polish. Luckily close toed shoes are required in the lab of her new job, otherwise she’d look like a lunatic with toenails painted three different colors. Alanis Morisette’s “You’ll Learn” that’s been crooning through the small bluetooth speakers Liz bought Rosa for her first birthday since coming back is interrupted by Liz’s blaring ringtone. She quickly ignores the call without looking. Today is for her and Rosa to reconnect. 

She’s barely seen Rosa since Max was resurrected a week ago, and though her sister assures her she doesn't need constant babysitting, Liz still feels guilty ignoring her sister in favor of a boy. But today Max and Isobel are spending the day with their parents. In part because Max missed them, but mostly so Isobel can influence them in believing that Max spent the last three months searching for Noah to make him sign divorce papers from Isobel. It’s the cover story they finally settled on, though Liz privately found Michael’s suggestion that they tell everyone that Max had been Eat, Pray, Loving his way around Europe trying to write a novel to be pretty funny. In the end, this fell in line with the story Isobel told her parents and everyone else that Noah had been under investigation by the SEC for embezzling money and gone on the run, leaving her behind. Isobel was the one who pointed out that their parents would never believe that Max would abandon her while she was heartbroken over her husband’s betrayal. 

Though she tried to cover it, Liz caught the bitterness in her tone, suggesting that, regardless of what she might tell Max, she still feels that’s exactly what he did. Sometimes Liz feels like during the time Max was gone and in the week since his resurrection she’s been letting everyone down. She knows she can get single-minded when working on something, and it not only prevented her from being as present for Rosa as she should’ve, but also kept her from being there for Isobel, and god, she’s barely seen Maria in weeks. She sends up a silent thanks for Kyle and Alex, who have stepped in where she failed. Kyle taking his new brotherly role seriously and helping Rosa with anything she needs, and Alex, the only person she knows who could unflinchingly face Isobel’s prickly snark. He’s helped her channel her rage into self defense classes, which Liz privately believes is the only reason Isobel didn’t blow out all the glass within a 10 mile radius of Roswell in the weeks after their first failed attempt to bring Max back. 

Liz tries to shake off the guilt. Her berating herself for the past won’t help anyone, and instead she knows she should focus on the future. Now that Max is back, and some semblance of normal has returned to their lives, she can refocus on her sister and her other friends. She’s just about to ask Rosa what she wants to do for dinner tonight, when the music is again interrupted by the harsh sound of her ringtone. She sighs and checks the Caller ID to see Maria’s smiling face flash across the screen. Liz frowns. She’d invited Maria to come hang out with her and Rosa today, but she’d begged off, explaining that the bar was short-handed right now, and she had to work open to close. 

Liz pauses the music and answers the phone on speaker. “Thank God, Liz.” The worry in Maria’s voice is evident even over the loud din of the Saturday afternoon crowd at the Pony. “I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re spending the day with Rosa, but I can’t get anyone else. Max and Isobel both have their phones off. I even called Kyle first but he’s at the hospital until 4.” Liz’s heart starts pounding, wondering what could be wrong now. She’d been so hopeful that they could go just a few days without an emergency. “I need you to come get Michael. He’s drunk.” 

Liz lets out a relieved sigh. It’s not _great_, but on the new scale she’s developed for levels of crises, this barely registers. “Ok… That’s not exactly unusual. I mean he’s been a lot better recently, but maybe he’s just blowing off some steam. Can’t he just sleep it off in your apartment upstairs?” 

“No, this is different Liz. He’s a mess. I tried to get him to go sleep it off, but I think he just kept drinking upstairs before wandering back down here. He’s sloppy and I can tell he’s spoiling for a fight.” Maria’s voice is tight with irritation. “I haven’t seen him like this since right after Max… you know.” 

Yeah, Liz does know. The first week after Max died, Michael, Isobel, and Liz all grieved in their own ways. Liz with endless tears and a laser-like focus on finding a way to bring Max back. Isobel with rage and exploding everything within range of her new telekinesis. And Michael grieved by falling back into old habits, drinking and getting into fights at the Wild Pony. They were all enough of a mess that it necessitated finally letting Maria in on the secret, if only for reinforcement from someone who wasn’t completely traumatized. But eventually Michael had pulled himself together. He’d helped Liz with the serum, cut back on his alcohol consumption, and even managed not to completely sabotage his burgeoning relationship with Maria, though Liz realizes she really doesn’t have much of a clue about how that’s been going. Despite all her time spent with Michael, it’s not something they’ve talked about at all. She might not know much, but one thing seems evident now: if she doesn’t do something, Michael’s likely to wake up in a jail cell and single. 

She looks regretfully at Rosa for a minute before sighing resignedly. “Do you need me to come get him out of there?” 

The answer comes immediately. “Yes. I really am sorry, Liz. I know you were gonna spend the day with Rosa, but with us understaffed here and being up half the night because my mom somehow managed to walk out of the nursing home for a little nighttime stroll _again_, I just really don’t have the capacity to deal with another person in my life who rambles incoherently and has a penchant for attracting trouble.” 

Liz’s heart twists painfully. Maria is always such a calming and supportive presence it’s easy for her to forget how much Maria has on her own plate. “Of course, babe. I’ll be there in 10 to take him off your hands.” 

She turns to Rosa with an apology in her eyes, but Rosa waves her off. “Go, go, manita. I heard. Drunken alien in crisis. I’ll be fine.” 

“I’m guessing you don’t want to come?” Rosa’s still a little wary around any of the aliens, though for the past week she’s put up with Max for Liz’s sake. 

“Hmm, pass. I’ve experienced enough drunken spirals myself. No need to bear witness to someone else’s. I’ve got my art supplies up here. Maybe I’ll update some of my graffiti for old times sake. I’m feeling all nostalgic today. Now get out of here.” Rosa gives Liz a playful shove, and Liz reluctantly makes her way inside. 

When she enters the Pony eight minutes later, she catches sight of of Michael immediately. He’s slumped over the bar staring at Maria beseechingly, while Maria shakes her head and yanks the bottle he’d likely stolen from behind the bar out of his hand. Her exasperation transitions to relief when Maria’s gaze falls on Liz as she makes her way over to the bar. “Tag, you’re it,” Maria greets her with a tired half-smile. Liz slides into the chair next to Michael, drawing his attention for the first time. 

“Liz,” Michael slurs, “here to have a drink with me?” 

“Nope, here to drag your ass out of here before Maria runs out of patience.” Michael’s gaze flickers from Liz’s face to Maria’s and back again. Whatever he sees there seems to convince him that leaving without a fight is his best option. Maybe he can tell that Maria truly is at the end of her rope. 

“Fine,” he acquiesces, “I’ve got booze at home too.” Liz has no intention of letting him get drunker, but her mission now is to get him out of the Pony, so she says nothing as she drags him out the door. She snags his keys from his pocket and leads him to his truck, figuring she can get Rosa to pick her up later and bring her back to her car if need be. Michael is strangely compliant about getting in the truck, barely even reacting when Liz insists he buckle his seatbelt before she’ll start driving. He’s quiet on the drive over, leaning his head on the window and staring off into space. Liz hopes he’ll pass out quickly when she gets him back to the Airstream. They can talk tomorrow about whatever motivated this round of day drinking. 

Unfortunately, when they pull into the junkyard he seems to reanimate and he’s out of the truck and pushing the Airstream out of the way with his mind before she’s even parked. He’s halfway down the ladder into the bunker by the time she climbs out of the truck herself, and she has no choice but to follow him down, wondering if he’s making a beeline for an acetone stash down there. But when she follows him down the ladder she doesn’t find him guzzling acetone or even booze, rather she sees for the first time what he so carefully protected under the cover on the far table. It’s clearly alien in nature, as it has an otherworldly glow. Best she can figure it’s some kind of alien electronic or vehicle. She can’t quite tell, but it’s obviously important enough for Michael to have kept hidden. 

Liz watches him pull a large shard of purple glass, and float it towards the rest. She gasps in awe as it knits itself together with the other pieces. The object looks like it may be complete now. She expects to see triumph on Michael’s face. He’s obviously been building this for years, and putting in the last piece should bring him satisfaction, but if anything, he looks bereft. He stares for a long moment before tugging the cover back over the object and sinking onto one of the cots they’d eventually set up in the bunker after falling asleep with their heads bent over a table one too many times when working to bring Max back. She sits down next to him, waiting for him to say something. 

After a moment, he obliges. “Well, now you know my big secret, I guess.” 

“I mean...not really. What is it?” 

“I think it’s the console from the ship. If I attach it to a vehicle, I might be able to find our home planet.” 

Liz gapes at him silently for a moment, taking in the meaning of his words. “You’re trying to leave the planet?” Her voice cracks as she imagines Roswell without Michael here. In the past six months he’s become such an important person to her. The only one who understands how focused she can gets into a project in the lab. The only one who craves answers with the same intensity she does. And weirdly, the easiest person to talk to about whatever chaotic feelings are swirling through her at any given moment. She doesn’t know how to verbalize that to him, and he doesn’t seem open to hearing it, as his face is closed off when she looks back at him. 

“Yeah, so? People leave. _You_ left.” His tone is sharply accusatory, which puts her on the defensive. 

“Right, and who influenced me into doing that?” 

“Bullshit. You told Max you were glad Isobel made you leave. And Isobel can’t influence someone into doing something they don’t want to do in the first place. You told me once that you loved Max the whole time. Since we were 17. If that were really true, how could you want to leave him?”

The stark pain in his face softens her initial pique at being called out. She considers how to answer him honestly. It’s not something she’s ever tried to put into words before. “I do believe I loved Max, even at 17. And if Rosa hadn’t died, maybe I would’ve been with him then. Maybe we’d have gone on that road trip, and figured out how to be in the same place the next year. But maybe not. I’ll never know who I would’ve been if Rosa hadn’t died. But losing her, it forced me to acknowledge that I didn’t know who I was without her. Since I was young, what I did, who I was, was shaped by either trying to be like her, or trying to be the opposite of her, depending on the trait. Without her, there was emptiness. I didn’t have a foil. She was the sun, to my moon, without her, I was only darkness. When she died, I wasn’t sure which of two instincts to follow. The instinct I’ve always had to run, a not so favorable trait I might’ve gotten from my mom, and the instinct to hide. Maybe if Isobel hadn’t influenced me, I would’ve chosen to hide in Max. Maybe I would’ve clung to him to try to replace what I’ve lost. But if I did that, I don’t think it would’ve worked out in the long run.” 

She pauses to think about how to make him understand how she can be both glad to have had the experiences she had the ten years away, and sad or regretful that she’d left Max behind to do so. “When I say I wanted to leave, and that in some ways I’m glad I did, it’s because it forced me to figure out how to be strong. How to be independent, and make my own way through the world, without being so scared of being imperfect. I may have swayed too far in the other direction, cutting myself off and not letting myself be close to anyone, but it did turn me into a person that could come back here, and after some trial and error, eventually accept Max’s love on my own terms, easily, not as an escape, but as a choice. And maybe there could’ve been a better way. A way to do both, find my strength without leaving. But I was a scared 17 year old, who had just been through a major trauma, and I did the best I could. Max told me once that since my mom left and I lost Rosa, it's easy to understand why I always try to leave before I can be left. And I think that’s true. But we’ve made our way back to each other, and though sometimes I still have the instinct to run, he supports me in fighting it. I told him if I ever lose the battle and run away, I want him to follow me. I know I hurt him in the past, but we love each other. And we are making the decision to be together, despite all the mistakes we’ve _both_ made in the past. And that has to be enough.” 

Michael just nods at her, which she takes to mean he’s found her answer acceptable. After all this time, she’s come to accept that their conversations will always be relatively lopsided. Her rambling on about whatever comes into his head, him asking vague, inscrutable questions that hint at a deeper meaning, and never offering an explanation. He surprises her by stretching out on the cot and dropping his head in her lap. They do have a tactile friendship, she supposes, though he has only initiated contact in the past as a means of comfort during the embarrassing number of times she broke down about Max in this very bunker. Perhaps it’s his lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol, or the trust she likes to think they’ve built that lets him feel comfortable enough in this moment to seek comfort for himself. 

Unsure if it will be welcome, but wanting to reciprocate the gesture, she cards her fingers through his hair. He leans into her touch like a cat, so she guesses he’s ok with it. She continues stroking his hair, wondering if he will ever respond, or just drift off. After a few minutes, he speaks up so quietly she’s not sure at first if he means to be talking out loud, “I guess I understand why you’d be tempted to leave before getting left. If I could’ve, I might have done the same. Getting left sucks.” Liz knows abandonment was an all too common theme in Michael’s life. She understands why having a project where he could imagine a way home might sustain him. But now that they know that home is a war torn planet, the idea of him risking everything to go where there might be nothing waiting for him is unbearably sad. 

“Yeah it does. But sometimes people come back. Please don’t go anywhere where you might not be able to. What would Max, Isobel, and I do without you?” She thinks about including Maria in this list, but with the exasperation she just witnessed, and the fact that Michael has never mentioned their relationship to her, but hasn’t exactly been the voice of optimism when he talks about love, she doesn’t know if including her would hurt or help the situation. 

“You’d have each other. After a while, you wouldn’t even notice I was gone.” 

Liz shook her head vigorously. She first thinks about cracking a joke, but Michael has a vulnerability on his face she’s never seen before, so she opts for the truth. “Yes, we would. Max and Isobel are your family, Michael, They love you. I know you and Max have trouble actually talking to each other, but he talks to me. He tells me how grateful he is to you for helping bring him back, how much he cares about you, how he wishes he could fix things between you. And you are family to me, too. I would not have made it through the months when Max was gone without you. I would have just wallowed in my grief. You listened to me, you held me when I cried, and your brilliant mind made it possible to bring Max back. Michael, there are people that need you here, including me, ok?” 

Liz thinks her words have sunk into at least a little, as Michael’s eyes look a little wet. He rolls over so he’s facing away from her, but doesn’t move his head from her lap. He sighs, “It was a childish pipe dream anyways. Don’t worry, Ortecho, I won’t leave you here. Besides, what happens the next time a serum cure is needed? You can’t be trusted alone not to accidentally poison someone, so I guess I’ve got to stick around.” It’s practically a declaration of friendship coming from Michael, so she ignores the dig, and continues stroking Michael’s hair as he burrows closer to her. 

She decides to take a risk and ask, “So, do you want to tell me what made you decide to go on a bender today?” 

“What, I need a reason to go on a bender? Isn’t this just par for the course for me: a drunken criminal?” 

“No, Michael, it is not. Not usually. Except when something really upsets you. You always listen to me ramble, so why don’t you let me return the favor for once?”

“Nothing new. Just got reminded of what it feels like to get left behind, and it fucked with me for a minute. I’ll be fine tomorrow. Just a bad day, ok? Don’t wanna talk about it.” His eyes flicker closed and his breath slows. Liz decides to leave it alone for the day and let him sleep for a bit. She closes her eyes too and drifts off, leaning her head back against the wall. 

Pain in her legs wakes her, and she realizes she must’ve fallen asleep. Michael appears to still be resting peacefully, though she realizes belatedly that she forgot to make him drink water so he’s sure to have a hell of a hangover the next day. She checks her phone and sees it’s nearly 7 pm. She hates to leave Michael here, knowing the cot is not comfortable, and he’ll likely feel like crap when he wakes up. She shakes him, but he doesn’t so much as stir. She can’t get him up the ladder without help, and Max and Isobel have planned to stay at their parent’s house tonight to make sure the influencing was successful. Maria’s still working, and she doesn’t think calling her would exactly _help_ their potentially floundering relationship. She realizes Kyle is off work now, so he’s probably her best option. Guerin may hate him, but he’s not conscious enough to object, so he can deal. She slides Michael’s head off her lap and onto a pillow and climbs out of the bunker, thankful Michael was too drunk to remember to move the Airstream back over the entrance. She walks towards the entrance until she has a good signal. 

Kyle answers after three rings, “What’s up, Liz?” She hears the sound of Kyle’s footsteps followed by a door closing. She wonders if she interrupted a date. Kyle obviously wouldn’t want a girl he’s seeing to overhear him talking to an ex-girlfriend, but he’s too conscientious and primed for a crisis to ignore her call even when he should. She thinks about telling him to forget it, but she really doesn’t want to leave Michael in the bunker for the night. If Kyle says no, she’ll figure something else out. 

“I was hoping for your help with a little situation I’ve got going on.”

“Is Rosa ok?” Kyle asks immediately. Once she reassures him, his tone lightens, and he quips, “In that case, I’m gonna need a few details, Ortecho. With you it could be literally anything.” 

“So, Michael was a bit overserved, and is passed out in his bunker. I’m not quite buff enough to move him to his bed. Any chance you’re free to help?” She’s not above a bribe, so she adds, “There are free fries in it for you if you do.”

“To help Guerin? Yeah, not today, Liz.” Liz is surprised to hear a bite to his tone. She’d always been under the impression that the animosity was one-sided. Kyle is usually tolerant of Michael’s antics and seemed to brush off his constant snarking in the past, so this attitude is new. She hears a heavy sigh, and when Kyle speaks again, he sounds more like himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. But I really can’t help. I’m a little tied up out here at the cabin with Alex. He’s also been a little…over-served as well. Today’s a tough day for him, two years since the explosion that took his leg, and then he and Guerin got into it this morning.I don’t know all the details, but suffice to say, it wasn’t good, as it seems to have led them both to the bottom of a bottle. So I’m not exactly feeling charitable towards Michael right now. But if you really can’t find anyone else, I can swing by once I get Alex settled, but I’m not sure when that’ll be. Sorry.” 

Liz isn’t sure she even says goodbye before she hangs up the phone. She’s rooted to the spot as she replays every conversation she and Michael have had over the past months and starts to see them in a new light. _Fuck_. It’s always about Alex with Michael. She doesn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before. She’d known from Maria that they’d had _something_ in high school, but from Maria’s description it had seemed like it might’ve mostly one-sided, or maybe that’s what Maria wanted to believe. 

After Michael and Maria started doing whatever it was they were doing, she’d checked in with Alex once, but he’d refused to give any details and waved off her concern. And she’d let him. There had been so many other things to focus on that she honestly hadn’t wanted to get wrapped up in any love triangle nonsense between three of her closest friends. Maybe that’s how she let every seemingly obvious clue pass her by. It’s now abundantly clear that every time Michael talks about love it’s Alex he’s thinking of. And if Maria’s reading of him was accurate, and her readings usually are, then Alex is in love with Michael too. _Fuck. _She doesn’t entirely blame Michael for trying to move forward with Maria. It’s obvious he and Alex have had their share of pain. Something that made him feel like love was the worst thing that happened to him. And with so much other trauma piled on, she gets why he might try for something else, something, what did he say months ago? something easy and safe. But it seems clear that won’t work for him in the long run any more than it would work for her. And it seems inevitable that in addition to complicating all of her friendships, it has the potential to break Maria’s heart. _Fuck. _

Her pragmatism returns, and she acknowledges there's nothing she could do today to halt this impending trainwreck. She returns to the bunker, and shakes Michael awake roughly, feeling somewhat less charitable than she had earlier, and with her help he’s able to make it up the ladder, into his Airstream and into bed. Her better angels do eventually prevail and she entreats him to drink water before sleeping and puts some water and a small bottle of acetone next to his bed for when he awakes, before calling Rosa to pick her up. Tonight she wants to have dinner with her sister. Untangling the complex love lives of her friends can wait for another day. 

5.

“You here to yell at me?” 

“For leaving the door to your secret lair exposed? No. You’re the one who had a stick up their ass about that.” She lowers herself down the last rung of the latter and flashes Michael a sad smile. “Or for breaking up with Maria last night? Also no.” A look of relief flashes across his face. Despite her telling him on many occasions that she considers him family, she can tell he thought breaking up with Maria might cost him her friendship. 

“I thought you’d be with her now. Drinking tequila and bitching about what an asshole I am. Isn’t that what girls do?” 

“Wel,l I was there,” Liz admits. “And full disclosure, I may have had more than a little tequila.” At his worried look, she adds, “Don’t worry, your brother dropped me here and will pick me up. He’s on patrol tonight, but it’s been slow. Anyways, I was there and so was Isobel for some reason, and after a bit Isobel declared that me and my ‘stupidly coupled-up face’ were no longer welcome there.” Michael arches an eyebrow in disbelief and Liz raises her hand, indicating her own bewilderment. “I know. It was a little surprising coming from her, but she’d had even more tequila than I had, so she was a little less poised than usual. Anyway, she said the rest of the party was only for the recently dumped or widowed, and Maria seemed to be finding Isobel’s antics amusing, so I left. I figured with Max on duty and Isobel with Maria, that maybe you could use a friend.” Liz hopes there will come a time when Michael doesn’t look so astonished at someone caring about him. 

Liz leans against the table facing him and asks gently, “You want to tell me what went wrong? Everything seemed fine at dinner last night.” In truth, the double date had been painfully awkward, at least for her. In the week since she’d put Michael to bed after his Alex-inspired day drinking, she’d wrestled with what to do. It felt like she might be the only person with all the relevant information, but wasn’t sure how much interfering, if any, was appropriate. There didn’t seem to be a solution that wouldn’t end in broken friendships and broken hearts, so she’d done nothing. When Max, in an effort to normalize things and improve his relationship with his brother had arranged a double date with Michael and Maria, she’d nearly forced him to cancel, unsure of how she could sit across the table from them, knowing that Maria wasn’t who Michael thought about when he talked about love. But in the end she’d gone, and it had been largely uneventful. Still, she can’t pretend she wasn’t a little relieved when Maria called her this morning and told her Michael had broken up with her a few hours after their date. It took the decision out of her hand, and though Maria was sad, she didn’t seem destroyed. More wistful that the potential she thought was there never really came to fruition and regretful that the relationship had strained her friendship with Alex, who she admitted was unfailingly polite to her these days but couldn’t look her directly in the eye. Liz privately thought it was likely to get worse before it got better, but she still had hope that one day in the future they’d all be friends again like when they were younger. 

“It was,” Michael finally speaks. “Fine, I mean. It always was, with the exception of the few times I got obnoxiously drunk. Happy sometimes, comfortable, safe.” After a long moment he lets out a breath like he always does before venturing into topics that make him feel vulnerable. “But seeing you and Max together last night, remembering all the things you’ve said about the way you’ve worked through your shit, and how you feel when you’re with him… well I had to face a fact I’ve been avoiding for a while. As much as I adore Maria, and god, I really do...” The sincerity shines through on his face, and the small amount of anger she’d been carrying on her way over here dissipates entirely. “Despite that, safe and comfortable isn’t what I want. Just like you said to me when we were trying to bring Max back, when you’ve had something that feels fated,” he smiles ruefully, “something cosmic. Well, safe and comfortable just isn’t enough.” His smile fades and his mood turns dark. “I’m just sorry I hurt Maria in figuring that out.” 

Liz pats his arm reassuringly. “It wasn’t great. But I do think she’ll get past it eventually.” Liz considers for a moment, before deciding she has to ask. They can’t keep talking around it forever. “So are we gonna talk about Alex, now or what?” 

Off Michael’s surprised look, Liz continues, “I mean, he is who you mean when you talk about fated and cosmic, right?” 

Michael looks guilty and a little embarrassed at the same time. “You know about that, huh? From Alex?” Liz shakes her head. “Figures. Maria then? I guess girls do talk.” 

“Are you upset? Did you not want me to know?”

Michael looks conflicted, like he’s not quite sure how to answer. “I’ve never really cared if people knew, that was more Alex’s thing than mine. I just wish...I don’t know...I wish I had some control over it. That I got to tell people on my own terms. Not about Alex, even, but about me, I guess. Maybe it’s dumb, it shouldn’t matter, I’m not ashamed of it. But Max apparently knew for years and never even said anything until I made him angry enough to snap. I still don’t know for sure how Maria found out, and then with you, at first I assumed you knew: that Alex or Maria had told you, but you never said anything, so.” He shrugs. “I don’t know. it’s water under the bridge now.”

“No, Michael. It’s not dumb, you’re right. I’m sorry for how everything happened, and I’m sorry for being so wrapped up in everything else that I didn’t try to talk to you about it until now.” Maybe it’s because she’s never had to think about it, but it hadn’t even occurred to her until this moment that Maria had essentially outed Michael to her, and it sounds like it wasn’t the first time that happened to him. She knew it wasn’t malicious, neither she nor Maria had an issue with bisexuality, and had been focused only on the issues raised by the fact that it was _Alex_, but of course there were added layers. Alex always played things close to the chest, even as a kid, so she hadn’t thought too hard about why he didn’t share details about his high school crush or subsequent relationships. But she realizes now that it wasn’t just Alex being private, it’s that it wasn’t his decision to make. Sharing details could always mean outing someone. And given that Alex hadn’t ever really had a choice about coming out himself, since by the time high school rolled around, he was in a glass closet at best, he would be particularly sensitive about outing someone else. With the choice taken away from Michael, she thinks he at least deserves not to have some details. “Just so you don’t have to wonder, my understanding is that Maria did find out from Alex, but he didn’t actually tell her. You know how she is, she read him the day after we got back from Texas. It’s pretty hard to lie to a psychic. Maria confided in me later when she was trying to work out her feelings. I know it doesn’t make it ok, but she was really just trying to give me context.” 

Michael shrugs. “Like I said, it is what it is. I’m not angry that you know.” 

“So, do you want to talk about it? I know you had something in high school, but I thought that was all it was until recently. When I put together a few things about the conversations we’ve had. It sounds like it was or maybe _is_ a lot more than that.” 

Another long breath escapes Michael before he says anything else. “Yeah… it’s kind of everything.” 

Like so many times before, Michael’s simple truth catch her off guard. She collects herself enough to ask, “So, what’s keeping you apart? I may not know the details, but you certainly haven’t sounded particularly optimistic about love, and Kyle mentioned you and Alex got into it last week just before your epic day drinking disaster.” 

Michael shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot and runs a hand through his hair, looking anywhere other than at her. “There are a lot of things between us. We’ve been through some pretty awful stuff. We had amazing moments too, but the trauma cast a pretty big shadow. He’s a little skittish, I’m a little defensive, he walks away, I feel abandoned. It’s a whole thing. After everything that happened this fall and winter, it seemed like time for us to stop banging our heads against the wall. I thought I needed something new. Something different.” 

“But you don’t think that anymore?” Liz prods. 

“Don’t let it go to your head or anything, but you rambling on about Max made me see a few things in a different light. Last week, well, Alex gave me that last piece of the console I showed you. I guess he’d had it for a while but hadn’t given it to me because he, I don’t know, he said he wasn’t ready for me to leave or something. And in the moment I was pissed. Because he kept leaving me, but I couldn’t leave him? That’s not fair. So I lashed out, like I do, and he told me we could talk another day, but that it was two years since he’d nearly died and he wasn’t in the mood to be a punching bag and left. I just started thinking about everything. About what it felt like when he left for the Air Force for the first time, and what it would’ve felt like if he hadn’t ever come home. It was shitty and I didn’t know what else to do so I got drunk. Fell back into old coping mechanisms ‘cause that’s what I do when it gets to be too much, even though I’ve been trying to break that habit, I slip up sometimes.” 

He pauses for a breath, but surprisingly continues talking. “The next day, and every day since, it just made me think, like, Alex does the same thing sometimes. When he gets overwhelmed, he falls back into old coping mechanisms too. He walks away. That’s why I felt like if we tried again, we’d just be repeating old patterns, but I realized Alex was, in his own way trying to break that habit. He just...well, he’s like you in some ways. He needs a minute to catch up, to process, and I don’t always give that to him. I expect him to show he cares like I do, and that’s not him. But lately he was trying to stop walking away, to use his words a little more, and yeah, he slipped up sometimes this year, but he did keep coming back. I wasn’t in the place to see it before, but I do now. And then I thought about you, and how you are doing the same thing, working not to run when you get overwhelmed, and how Max is helping you, and how you’d want him to come after you if you did regress. I thought about how you worked through past trauma and forgave each other, and how you want each other, even when it’s hard. And I realized that I want to do that too, to put in the work. When he told me he was giving me that piece of the ship so I could leave if I wanted, move on, be happy, I realized I don’t want to. I don’t want to try to go home. Because besides that brief moment with my mom, Alex is the only one that has ever made me feel like I’m home. And moving on didn’t work, even with someone I adore and care about as much as Maria, because I don’t want to move on. Because...well fuck, because I love him.” 

He finally looks up at her, a little sheepish. “And well that’s the most words I’ve ever said at one time. I think I’m turning into you, now. Rambling about my feelings. You’re a bad influence, Ortecho.” 

She laughs, warmth and love for him flooding through her. He’s been through so much, and he and Alex both deserve the chance to try to work through things. “Well, you know what you have to do now, right?” 

The look he shoots her indicates that he thinks she might’ve gone mad. “What about anything I just said indicates to you that I have any earthly idea about what I should do now? Everything’s a disaster. Alex thinks I’ve moved on. Maria, the only person that really put up with me for the last ten years before you came back to town, probably hates me now. I’m well and truly fucked…why the hell are you smiling?” 

“Well, see, one time when I was spiraling, kind of like you are right now, a literal genius, as he likes to remind me he is, gave me some sage and brilliant advice that I think might work for you now.” She can tell by Michael’s rolling eyes that he knows where she’s going with this. “Yup, that’s right...it’s coming back to bite you in the ass. You should talk to him. What did you say to me? ‘Just ramble at him like you just did to me?’ That should work. And I mean that literally: tell Alex what you just told me, in the same way. No vague, but dramatic metaphors. Tell him, and if he gets overwhelmed and leaves? Give him a day and then go after him. But I don’t think he will. And in time, who knows, the whole talking thing might go a long way with making things right with Maria, too.” 

Michael just makes a humming sound, which could mean agreement or just that he’s done talking for the day, but that’s alright. She knows now that even when it seems like he’s not listening, he thinks about the things she says. Liz has faith that eventually he’ll take the advice and untangle this mess. 

+1

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Liz can’t stop herself from laughing out loud at Max’s nervousness. 

“Yes. I want to tell him now and you know his phone doesn’t work down there. Besides, he might get pissed at you for going busting in unannounced, but he actually likes me.” At the wounded look Max tries to cover, Liz regrets the joke. Max and Michael have made strides in their relationship in the two months since Max’s resurrection, but there are still some missteps and resentments to work through. Michael clearly _does_ have a greater level of comfort around Liz than Max, so she really shouldn’t tease. She takes a softer, more serious tone, as she continues. “Come on, he’s going to be happy for us.” Max relents and uses his still relatively new telekinetic powers to slide the Airstream over, and open the manhole cover. 

“Michael, you down there?” Max yells, rolling his eyes when he realizes Liz hasn’t waited for a reply and is already halfway down the ladder. But despite his reservations, he follows her lead. 

She immediately notices when she reaches the ground that there have been some changes since the last time she was here over a month ago. The ship console remains, but is pushed over in the corner and a few of the tables have been removed to make room for an extensive computer setup, which Michael is currently standing in front of. As Michael whirls around, an irritated look on his face that softens slightly when he catches sight of her, she immediately recognizes the reason for the change, as Michael’s sudden movement reveals Alex lounging in the chair in front of the monitor set up. He gets up to greet her with a much friendlier smile. 

“Ortecho, you’re abusing my open door privileges here. I never said you could bring guests down here.” Michael gestures to Max, who has now made his way to the ground as well. The harsh words are undercut by a teasing smile which Max returns. 

Alex bumps Michael’s shoulder with his own. “I think what Michael meant to say, was ‘hey guys, how are you?’” Michael attempts to seem annoyed at Alex’s rephrasing, but can’t seem to look at Alex with anything other than adoration these days. They finally got their shit together a few weeks after she and Michael had the last of what she’s now calling their bunker confessionals. They’d even quietly been on a few dates around town, including at the Crashdown, and Liz had only barely stopped herself from squealing out loud when she saw them holding hands shyly under the table and looking at each other like there was no one else in the room. 

“Sure, we’ll go with that. And also, what the hell are you guys doing here? Max, I’d thought since getting trapped here you wouldn’t really be eager to come back.” 

“Eh, it wasn’t all bad,” Max responds sincerely. He’s told Liz that though they’ve had setbacks since, he feels getting stuck in this bunker had been a real breakthrough in their relationship. Michael seems to catch his meaning and gives him a half-smile. “Anyways, we have news to share and Iz said you were off the map, so we figured you might be down here.” Truthfully, Liz had wanted to tell Michael immediately, but Max convinced her that dealing with Isobel’s rage if she wasn’t the first to know wouldn’t have been worth it. Maria had been at Isobel’s that morning oddly, so they were able to tell them both at the same time. Afterwards, Liz insisted they come straight here. 

“So, what was so important that you were willing to encourage Isobel’s unhealthy stalking tendencies? I know you hate that she tracks our phones almost as much as I do.” 

“Well… Liz and I talked, and we decided--” 

Liz rolls her eyes in fond exasperation. Max is long winded at the best of times, and she’s not sure he’s ever going to get to the point, so she jumps in, stretching her hand out for Michael and Alex to see the ring sparkling there. “We’re getting married!” She yelps a moment later as she feels herself being lifted off the ground in an exuberant hug. 

When Michael finally puts her down, he gives Max a more reserved bro hug/back slap combo that she sees boys do with each other, and a sincere, “Congratulations.” And as she studies him over Alex’s shoulder, as he gives her a less exuberant, but just as heartfelt hug, she could even swear Michael’s eyes look a little wet, though she knows better than to comment on it. After Alex shakes Max’s hand, he comes to stand behind Michael, resting his chin on Michael’s shoulder as they talk wedding plans, and Michael lightly teases them both about how little say they’ll get in anything once Isobel takes over. The contentment that fills her in this moment feels almost surreal. 

Liz thinks back to all the conversations she and Michael had in this very bunker, talking about love, and wondering if the pain, sacrifice, and worry would all be worth it. If they’d ever get a chance to be happy with the people they love. As she leans back into Max’s arms, and watches Michael press a kiss into Alex’s hair, she knows neither of them have to wonder anymore.


End file.
